Page 153 of The Morally Grey Billionaires Boxset

Abby

"OMG, you’re on fire, girl!" Isla exclaims.

I push out my arse and bump and grind and lower myself to the floor and back up again. I’m not much of a dancer, but the shot of tequila I downed earlier helped lower my inhibitions somewhat. I’m at a nightclub in Soho. It’s Friday night and the place is heaving.

Unable to focus on work—I was writing up handover notes on a few client accounts for Zara’s company—I wandered around the apartment, not sure what to do with myself.

When Isla texted that she was in town and asked if I wanted to meet up with her and Amelie at a club, I jumped at the opportunity.

I also invited Mira, my friend from the train, to join us.

We met at the bar and downed a few drinks before we ventured onto the dance floor.

"Hey, girls!" Amelie shoulders her way through the crowd and draws abreast with us. With her, there’s a very pretty, petite girl who smiles at Isla.

"Ava!" Isla squeals and throws her arm about the girl. "How wonderful to see you. It’s been ages."

"I know, Baron refuses to let me out of his sight, but I managed to slip away for this evening." She laughs.

"That husband of yours sure is possessive," Isla scoffs.

"No more than Liam." Ava looks her up and down. "Speaking of... What are you doing in Blighty? Thought you two preferred the sunnier climes of your island."

"It’s hard not to. It’s always warm there; it has its own microclimate, you know. But Liam has business in London, and I can work from anywhere, so—" She raises a shoulder. "Also, I can’t bear to be away from him, not even for a few hours." She giggles.

"Thanks for gracing us with your presence this evening." Amelie all but rolls her eyes. "I, for one, am going to celebrate my first night out without a husband. I love him dearly, but it feels wonderful to just try to claim a little bit of myself back for me, you know?"

"I hear you, sister." Isla shakes the hair back from her forehead. "Considering we’re trying for a child, I’m making use of every free moment I have to live it up. Once I’m preggers, I know all of this will change. So, for now, I’m going to enjoy a night out with my girlfriends, while I can."

"I do miss Baron, but it feels wonderful to be out with all of you," Ava agrees.

I take in the rock on Ava’s left hand and realize all three of them are married. And she looks younger than me too! Ugh.

“You’re not alone.” Mira nudges me. “I’m still single, and not even in a relationship.”

“Thank god!” I throw my arms about her. “Not because you’re not in a relationship, but because I’m glad to have company in my singledom.”

She laughs. “Not that I’m in a hurry to find the one, either.”

I found the one, and then lost him... No, no, no. I can’t think like that. Cade’s not the one. Nope. I must put my stupid childhood crush on the guy out of my head and move on. It’s why I pulled on this silvery little number that comes to mid-thigh and clings lovingly to my curves.

Combined with my seven-inch Manolo Blahniks, for which I maxed out my credit card, I feel confident and beautiful and ready to take on the world.

Hell, I’ll even take on the grouchy toadwart who’s going to pick me up at six a.m. tomorrow.

That’s right, six a.m., aka, six in the morning.

Ugh. I hate getting up in the mornings, especially early in the mornings.

I probably should have stayed home to make that early call, but damn, I need to let loose for an evening before I face working in such close quarters with that neanderthal.

If he hadn’t threatened to tell my brother I wasn’t cooperating with him, I’d have refused.

It’s a low blow he dealt me, but he knows I don’t want to worry Knight.

Not when he needs every bit of focus to stay safe on the frontline.

How am I going to get through working in such close proximity with the bane of my existence, though?

Especially when he’s only ever going to think of me as his friend’s little sister, the girl who destroyed his life.

And if, during the time I work for him, he can have a little fun at my expense, he’s not going to hold back, that twathead.

If only he weren’t so hot, so sexy, so damn gorgeous that my eyes hurt every time I see him.

If only he weren’t so completely breathtaking that every time I see him, I want to slap him for the sadistic pleasure he seems to get from making me uncomfortable…

Then climb him like a tree and kiss him soundly, before dropping to my knees in front of him and—

I back up and into something hard. "Oops-a-daisy." I turn to find a stranger smiling down at me. He’s tall—not as tall as my grumphole—I mean, Cade—but taller than me. Also, he has a nice face. Again, nowhere near as striking as Cade’s, but he’s definitely more good-looking than average.

And he has nice, muddy brown eyes; nothing as exceptional as Cade’s mis-matched eyes, but still, they have an interested look in them.

Nothing like the slightly bored, slightly sadistic look in Cade’s eyes—which makes me shiver, of course.

Stop thinking about him. Why are you still thinking about him, when he’s probably, right now, between the thighs of one of his many women with whom he likes to be photographed?

I tip up my chin and the stranger’s Adam’s apple bobs.

He leans in and places his mouth close to my ear, "Uh, would you like to dance with me? "

“Umm.”

"Of course, she’d love to dance with you,” Mira cries as she pushes me closer.

I shoot her a glance, but she glances at the man, then at me, then flashes me a bright smile before moving off. O-k-a-y.

“If you don’t want to, that’s fine.” The stranger straightens. “It’s just… I thought you—"

“No, you’re right, I do want to dance.” I move in closer to him and begin to sway my hips. The stranger smiles, then mirrors my moves, and soon, we’re dancing.

There’s a touch on my shoulder. I turn to find Isla grinning at me. She glances at my partner, then gestures to the bar. "We’re going to get a drink, okay?"

I nod, then turn back to my dancing partner.

He’s agile and fast on his feet. He does a quick spin, then moves in, grabs me about my waist and bends me back.

The world tilts, and I burst out laughing.

He pulls me back, then twirls me around, before swinging me forward, then back so we exchange sides.

I’m facing the bar and I glance up just as the crowd parts. I glimpse a familiar face—Cade. It can’t be. Is it Cade? He’s scowling straight at me. I guess that answers my question. The crowd shifts. I stumble; my partner catches me around the waist and draws me close. "You okay?"

I blink, try to get my attention back to the man in front of me. "Yes… No… Uh. I thought I saw someone."

"A friend?"

"A… He’s my new boss, actually," I murmur.

"Ah, time to leave all thoughts of work behind." He steps back, takes my hand in his and twirls me out.

I turn and slam into a hard brick wall. No, it’s not a wall.

It’s a man’s chest. A very sculpted, unyielding chest. The scent of cardamom and mint and that musk that’s uniquely Cade envelops me, right before heavy, warm hands grip my hips.

I tilt my chin up, not surprised to find one grey and one blue eye glaring down at me.

His nostrils flare. His jaw is set so hard, it’s a wonder he hasn’t cracked a molar.

There’s a tug on my arm, and I turn my head to find the stranger still holding onto my hand.

"Who’re you?" He scowls at Cade.

I sense Cade’s already rigid body go even more stiff.

Every muscle seems to tense and coil. Anger leaps off of him, and I sense the intensity writ in every cell of his flesh.

I try to tug my hand from the stranger’s grasp, but he doesn’t let go.

Oh, no, no. No. Cade’s grip on my waist tightens.

I sense the rage boiling up in him and slap my other hand into his chest.

"Don’t, Cade, please!"

A snarl rumbles up his chest. His lips curl. His eyes flash fire, and OMG, his temper is a thing of beauty.

"Let. Her. Go," he snaps.

“And if I don’t?” the stranger scowls.

Cade makes a sound at the back of his throat. His eyes gleam, the intent in them unmistakable. Oh, no. No, no, no. I tug my arm, and this time, the stranger lets go. Thank god! Only it’s too late. In the next moment, Cade shoves me behind him, then slams his fist into the stranger’s face.

**

“Really? Really? You knocked the man out cold.” I throw up my hands. “How could you do that?”

I stare at the man who’s standing in the corner of the room.

We’re still at the night club but in the office of the manager, situated a level above the dance floor, where pandemonium had descended.

Cade knocked the stranger to the ground.

The girl next to me screamed, and another man lashed out at Cade, who responded by flinging him aside.

The man next to us threw a punch at his neighbor, and suddenly, the dance floor erupted, with everyone swinging at someone else.

It reminded me of one of those saloon fights in the old movies where everyone is punching everyone else.

Cade evaded the punch of the next guy and threw him at the men fighting next to us.

Then, he threw me over his shoulder and marched to the edge of the floor, where Isla took charge.

She grabbed Cade’s hand and marched him—and by default, me—up the stairs and into the manager’s empty room.

Then, she told us to stay put. When I protested, she said it was best for the two of us to stay out of sight and that she had enough PR experience to take care of the situation. Then, she disappeared.

Cade lowered me carefully to the floor, then before I could yell at him, he marched to the corner and proceeded to stare out the window at the darkness outside. That was half an hour ago, and he hasn’t spoken a word since.

I stop my pacing and turn toward him. "Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?" I slap my hands on my hips. "You caused a brawl to take place out there. Do you have any idea how bad this is going to look in the press?"

There’s no movement from the man-mountain.

No change in position. Not even a twitch of his muscles.

Anger wells up inside me. He carried me out of there, and I was too surprised to protest. Then I saw Isla’s face and realized how serious the situation was.

So, instead of trying to get him to put me down, I stayed compliant and allowed him to carry me up the stairs.

With each step, the edge of his shoulder dug into my stomach.

I could see his firm, tight arse flexing, his powerful thighs propelling him forward, my hair flowing down my ears to brush against the curve of his butt.

The music switched off and I heard the screams and the thuds and crashes from the fight on the dance floor before the door to the office shut behind us and cut off the noise. He made sure I was stable on my feet before he turned his back on me and stalked off.

Now, I study that gorgeous back with his massive shoulders straining his shirt, the wings of his shoulder blades slashing down to his trim waist and powerful thighs encased in jeans.

Oh god, the way he wears those jeans is as momentous as a work of art.

No-one should look so masculine, so virile, so everything sinful from the back.

And why am I ogling him instead of trying to get him to explain what set him off?

I square my shoulders and walk over to him. "Cade, did you hear me?"

No response.

I draw abreast and stare at his profile.

"If this blows up in the media, it could cost you your career. Do you realize that?" I reach out to touch him, and in a flash, he grabs my wrist and twists my arm behind my back. I blink.

The heat from his large frame seems to wrap around me; his gaze is fixed on mine, and his nostrils flared.

The look on his face is so angry, yet so cold, I flinch.

My heart leaps up into my throat. He seems so unreachable, and yet furious.

His nostrils flare, and the skin around his lips tightens, but his eyes…

They resemble chunks of grey-blue icicles.

He tightens his grip on my arm, and I wince.

"Cade, you’re hurting me."

"Good."

I gape at him. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me."

He rakes his gaze across my features, and it’s as if he’s physically touched me.

My nipples pebble, and my breasts ache. Every part of my body is filled with a strange yearning—one I now recognize.

It’s the same sensation I had the first moment I laid eyes on him.

Something of my feelings must reflect in my eyes, for his gaze narrows.

Something like confusion flicks across his features.

Then he releases me so suddenly, I stumble back.

He draws in a breath, then sets his jaw. "I’m not going to curtail my lifestyle for anyone, and certainly not for my Communications Manager."

“It’s because I’m your Communications Manager you should follow my instructions regarding public appearances and avoiding bad PR,” I say through gritted teeth.

I must take him by surprise because he blinks. The alphahole blinks, then draws himself to his full height. “No one tells me what to do, especially someone I don’t trust.”

His words hit me deep inside. A trembling grips me. I lock my fingers together and try to get ahold of myself.

Of course, I’m only his Communications Manager.

I shouldn’t have spoken to him with such familiarity.

I may have known him when we were younger, and he may have made love to me like he meant it, but he also went on to sleep with other women, so clearly, whatever we had that night didn’t mean anything to him.

He already implied it when we spoke in the car earlier tonight.

But now, seeing the hate on his face, I know for sure.

Whatever emotions he may have felt for me were destroyed during the time he was away.

He must see the realization dawn on my face, for he bares his teeth.

"That’s right, Sparrow. You’re my employee, and nothing more."